


Meet the (Other) Parents

by Lady_in_Red



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Humor, Multi, One Shot, School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 17:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2158839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_in_Red/pseuds/Lady_in_Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime thought the hardest part of sending his son to kindergarten was getting Tywin and Brienne to agree on a school. He was wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet the (Other) Parents

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Miss_M for the beta and the title. 
> 
> In honor of the school year getting underway for those of us with kids, have a bit of crack. Note, I'm playing fast and loose with canon ages and timelines. Just go with it.

_ 143, 144, 145… _

Jaime sighed as he finished counting the ceiling tiles. 

At the front of the dark auditorium, the headmaester of King’s Gate Preparatory Academy droned on. "The advantages of a King’s Gate education cannot be denied,” the elderly maester concluded, his heavy chain rattling as he collected his notes and left the podium.

As scattered parents applauded, Jaime muttered, "For twenty grand a year, there better be advantages."

Brienne shot him an irritated glare. "Hush, you're not even paying it," she chided. 

Jaime shifted in the hard plastic chair, checking the time on his phone again. Spending his father’s money didn't make the expense less ridiculous, but Tywin had insisted that his grandson would have every advantage money could buy. 

Jaime would have happily told his father to fuck off, but his wife had intervened. Education was important, she’d said. Attending Crakehall certainly hadn’t hurt Jaime, and Tywin was less controlling if they let him win once in a while. 

So instead of spending the evening relaxing at home, they were listening to a series of interminable presentations at kindergarten orientation. Why they needed to be oriented to drop a child off at school and pick him up in the afternoon, Jaime wasn't sure.

Stretching an arm over the back of Brienne’s chair, he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "How much longer do we have to stay here?"

Brienne scanned the program. "Maybe another half hour."

Jaime grimaced and absently rubbed the back of her neck while he looked around the crowded auditorium. Tywin had insisted on private school, but this was not Jaime’s stuffy, ancient boarding school. Brienne had flatly refused Tywin’s suggestion to send Leo to Crakehall.  

“He’s five,” she had protested. 

“Then he has no pressing business to attend to at home,” Tywin had replied. 

There was really no appropriate response to that, so Brienne had saved her rant for later, in the privacy of her and Jaime’s bedroom where curious little ears could not hear her. 

Brienne had spent weeks researching every school in King’s Landing. It had seemed like overkill to Jaime, but in this, as in everything, he trusted her judgment. The school Brienne had selected was well-regarded and accepted students based on their individual merits rather than their last names. Jaime still wondered what accomplishments five-year-olds could have, but Leo Lannister’s acceptance letter had described him as “charming” and “unusually well-versed in Targaryen-era history.”

The other parents suffering through this evening were a mixed bag. Some wore business suits and designer clothes, the women sporting massive diamonds and immaculate hair and makeup. Jaime recognized a few from work or his own schooldays. The majority, however, were more diverse. To their right sat a couple who looked almost too young to be parents. The heavy-set young man was dressed as a security guard. Perhaps someone else was paying their tuition as well. One row ahead sat a man with blue-dyed hair, talking in low tones to a woman in an elaborate dress. She seemed vaguely familiar, but Jaime couldn’t place her. 

"Are you sure about this place?" Blue Hair asked dubiously as a severe older woman in old-fashioned septa's robes launched into an explanation of the school's kindergarten program. 

Jaime shared his concern. The woman was rhapsodizing about enrichment opportunities, socialization skills, and assessment. "Isn't kindergarten about finger painting, making friends, and learning to read?" Jaime asked Brienne quietly.

His wife shook her head in exasperation. "You didn't read any of the pamphlets I gave you, did you?"

Jaime offered Brienne a sheepish grin and kissed her cheek. He hadn't read the pamphlets, of course. Jaime was the fun parent, the one who let their son stay up late and watch movies which were probably too violent for him, the one who didn't mind if Leo’s room was a mess. 

As Jaime listened to the rest of the presentation, he relaxed. The teachers used fancy terminology, but there wasn’t anything too outlandish about the curriculum. The hardest part for the boy would be sitting still long enough to learn anything. 

After the presentations, the parents were herded into the foyer of the auditorium, where coffee, lemonade, and trays of treats were laid out. Jaime swiped a handful of cookies, tucked all but one into his jacket pocket, and tracked down his wife.

Brienne had never been particularly comfortable in social situations. Nevertheless, she had always handled Leo’s preschool meetings while Jaime stayed home with the boy. For some reason, Brienne didn’t trust Jaime to keep his mouth shut if teachers had anything negative to say about Leo’s behavior or performance. 

Jaime found Brienne talking to a couple in designer power suits. The wife’s purse probably cost more than some people’s cars. He knew at a glance that Brienne was not enjoying the conversation, and a second glance confirmed what he’d suspected. 

“Merrett Frey. It’s been a long time.” Jaime shook the man’s hand solely in the name of politeness. Merrett Frey had been a bully back at Crakehall, and it wasn’t a stretch to think that his child might be too. 

Merrett peered at him a moment, then smiled thinly. “Of course. Jaime Lannister. Forgive me, your wife said her name was Tarth.” Frey turned to his wife. “Mariya, Jaime and I were classmates at Crakehall.”

Mariya Frey gave Jaime a perfunctory smile. “Apparently your son and my daughter will be classmates as well. We’re so proud of our little Amerei. She just lights up the room. I do hope her pageant schedule won’t pose a problem with her schoolwork.”

Brienne tried to take Jaime’s hand, found it already holding a cookie, and put her arm around him instead. “Pageants?” she asked dubiously.

A real smile lit Mariya’s face, her eyes gleaming. “Oh yes. Amerei has been Princess of the Spring Festival at the Twins, Little Miss Darry, and Miss Talent Supreme at Highgarden.”

Jaime couldn’t help himself. “What is Amerei’s talent?”

Merrett eyed him sharply. “She dances.” 

“I’m sure she’ll grow up to be a very talented dancer,” Jaime replied with a smirk. He’d seen enough reality TV to know what those pageants were like, and exactly how screwed up little Amerei would likely be by the time her parents were through with her. 

Brienne grabbed the cookie from his hand and tried to shove it into his mouth, but Jaime dodged. “Please excuse us,” she said hastily, dragging Jaime away. 

“Oh come on, Brienne,” Jaime protested. “Princess of the Spring Festival? Dancing in high heels all made up like a grown woman at age five? They might as well just pencil the kid in for a shift on the pole at Chataya’s when she turns eighteen.” 

“Shut up,” his wife hissed. “That’s not funny. Someone will hear you.” She raised an eyebrow. “Wait, Chataya’s?” 

Jaime shrugged. “Tyrion used to get grabby with the dancers. I had to go pick him up a few times.”

“Ugh, why am I not surprised?” Brienne’s eyes widened. “Damn it, there’s Lysa Arryn. Just… don’t talk.”

Jaime took the white chocolate macadamia cookie from his wife’s hand and bit into it as the pinched-looking redhead approached them. Catelyn Stark had always been a bit severe, and Jaime hated spending time with the woman, but he had little choice as long as Catelyn was Brienne’s boss. Catelyn’s sister, Lysa Arryn, however, was on another level. Jaime had taken Lysa to a school dance on his father’s orders when they were teenagers, and hadn’t enjoyed the experience. Even then, she’d been a bundle of nerves and tics, and the years had not improved her. 

“Brienne,” Lysa said coolly, nodded briefly at Jaime. “Cat mentioned your boy was enrolling here as well.”

“I didn’t realize you were back in King’s Landing,” Brienne replied.

“Yes, Petyr insisted.” Lysa’s gaze went back to Jaime. “Where did you get that?”

His mouth still full of cookie, Jaime pointed at the table still laden with goodies. 

Lysa frowned. “Is that gluten-free? Nut-free? Organic? I asked if there would be refreshments and was assured there wouldn’t be.” She pushed past them, muttering, “I knew we shouldn’t have left the Vale. Everything will be fine, Petyr said. Robin needs other boys, he said. Robin doesn’t need high fructose corn syrup and licensed characters and pesticide residues.”

Jaime swallowed. As soon as Lysa was out of earshot, he huffed, “That kid is not coming over to our house. Lysa would probably send in a hazmat team first.”

Brienne laughed in spite of herself. She wasn’t usually this prickly with him. Jaime’s smart mouth made his wife smile far more often than it frustrated her. Brienne would never admit it, but Jaime suspected she was having a hard time accepting that their baby was already starting school. 

“What fun is childhood without a little mess?” said a deep, heavily accented voice.

Jaime turned around and found a couple standing behind them. The woman had dark, wavy hair cascading down her back and wore a low-cut dress more appropriate for a nightclub than a school. She fed bites of a chocolate cookie to the tall, hawkish man beside her. 

“My apologies, we could not help but overhear,” the man said. “Oberyn Martell. My paramour, Ellaria Sand.” He held out his hand.

“Brienne Tarth. This is my husband, Jaime Lannister.” Brienne shook Oberyn’s hand, her cheeks a little flushed at having been caught bad-mouthing her boss’s sister. 

Jaime followed her lead. Paramour? He hadn’t heard that term in a while, but then again he hadn’t visited Dorne in years. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met. Is this your first year at King’s Gate?” Oberyn directed his question to Brienne. Jaime didn’t care for the way Oberyn looked at her, his gaze lingering on her sparkling blue eyes, her freckle-dusted collarbones. 

“Yes, my wife thought our son would fit in well here,” Jaime cut in.

Oberyn turned his gaze on Jaime, studying him. The Dornishman licked his lips before returning his attention to Brienne. “If you have any questions about the school, feel free to ask. I’m no expert on little boys, but the gods blessed me with eight daughters, and the last four have all gone to school here.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate that,” Brienne replied warmly. “It’s nice to find like-minded parents here. We didn’t have much luck at Leo’s preschool. Our interests were a bit outside the norm there.” 

Brienne didn’t seem to notice how intensely Oberyn and Ellaria were watching her. Nor that she was making summer weekends playing knights at medieval festivals sound somewhat dirty.

Ellaria looked up at Jaime with a sly smile and sucked cookie crumbs from her index finger, her eyes never leaving Jaime’s. “We’ve had similar issues. It’s been a while since we’ve had the pleasure of another couple’s company. Perhaps you understand how difficult it can be to find a compatible pair.”

Was she suggesting … no. They were not being propositioned by swingers in the middle of a school function. 

“Of course,” Brienne agreed, smiling broadly. “Things were so much simpler in our single days. Now if I like a couple, Jaime can’t stand the wife, or the husband doesn’t like him.”

She would be mortified when Jaime explained this conversation to her later. Brienne was used to the attention her husband received, but it never seemed to occur to her that anyone might be attracted to her. After seven years of marriage, Jaime was still happy to prove that he wanted her as often as he could. 

Oberyn openly appraised Brienne, smiling back at her. “I suspect we won’t have that issue.”

Jaime was about to explain as politely as he could that he’d never really learned to share and wasn’t about to start now, when a door opened at the far end of the foyer and a pretty young blonde woman in modern septa’s robes walked into the room. A tide of small children pushed her forward. 

“There’s Leo.” Brienne pointed out their son, his wild straw-blonde curls poking above the other children’s heads. He’d been big from the day he was born, and might always be taller than his classmates. Brienne left to fetch Leo, who had begun wrestling with a trio of boys with long Dothraki braids while a dark-skinned young woman tried to intervene.

Ellaria sighed. “Your boy is in Septa Tyene’s class?” 

Jaime noted the disappointment on her face. “Yes, isn’t your daughter?”

Ellaria shook her head. “No, Loreza is with Septa Donyse. Tyene is Oberyn’s daughter too. She’s asked us not to entertain her students’ parents.” She touched Jaime’s arm and leaned in close. “Look us up after this school year. I’m sure we could find something to keep the children busy while we got to know each other better. Oberyn and I are fond of all sorts of games.”

Jaime bit his tongue rather than alienate his son’s teacher before the school year had even begun and made his way through the crowd to where Brienne was crouched in front of their son.

“But Mom, the triplets want to see my chainmail,” Leo protested. Envious of his parents’ elaborate costumes, the boy had recently convinced Jaime to buy him a chainmail shirt to wear while he roamed the festival with the other kids. 

“It’s too late tonight, little one,” Brienne reminded him as the young woman led the triplets away. 

Leo had inherited all of his mother’s freckles and none of her patience. His small face was thunderous. “But I’m not tired.”

Hoping to head off the tantrum brewing, Jaime suggested, “Why don’t we get their mom’s phone number, and you can get together another time?”

The boy’s features settled into a mulish expression which reminded Jaime strongly of Brienne in miniature. "Okay," he sulked. 

Jaime spotted the young woman struggling to keep the triplets from eating the entire refreshment table.

"But that's not their mom," Leo volunteered. "Missandei is their nanny."

Another woman approached the triplets, the blue-haired man Jaime had noticed earlier close behind her. One boy dropped a handful of cookies back onto the table to launch himself into her arms. From behind, all Jaime could see was long silver-blonde hair, but he had a very bad feeling, which was confirmed when she turned around, setting down the boy.

"Maybe you'd better talk to her, Brienne," Jaime said hesitantly. 

Brienne stood up and looked from her husband to the triplets' mother. "Why?"

Jaime hadn’t seen the girl since she was a child, but he had no doubt who she was. "That's Daenerys Targaryen. She's not my biggest fan."

"Why, Dad?" Leo asked innocently. He thought everyone liked his dad. Why wouldn't they? 

"That is a very long story for another day," Jaime deflected. Ideally a day several decades from now, or possibly never.  


Brienne, who knew the whole sorry tale, took her son by the hand. "I know what we need."

"It's not bedtime, is it?" the boy asked skeptically. His mother still tried to make chores sound like a treat. It never worked. 

Brienne smiled indulgently. "I was thinking we'd get ice cream while you tell us all about your teacher and your classmates." 

That offer easily distracted Leo, but Jaime shivered as they walked to the door. When he looked back, he wasn't surprised to catch Daenerys glaring at him. 

It was going to be a very long school year. 


End file.
